


After the Dark

by alllevelsrobin



Category: Video Blogging RPF, Who Killed Markiplier? (Web Series), Who Killed Markiplier? - Fandom, markiplier - Fandom
Genre: Fluff, Gen, On Hiatus, but not yet, for now, i think this will turn out to be very angsty
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-10-24
Updated: 2018-11-18
Packaged: 2019-08-07 02:44:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,956
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16399871
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alllevelsrobin/pseuds/alllevelsrobin
Summary: What if Dark decides he's had enough of Damien? What if he decides to switch his soul for Mark's, and gives Damien his own body back?





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Just ignore the terrible title (please), I have absolutely no inspiration for a good one.
> 
> Also, feel free to give constructive criticism, I don't think I'm really good at writing yet, so I need it. 
> 
> Enjoy!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Damien doesn't know what's going on.

Damien sat up in his bed the moment he saw lights from coming from behind the door. 

 

He couldn’t sleep, even though he wanted to so badly. His head was full from all the past events, he was so tired, and yet, he couldn’t manage to doze off. Apparently his sleeping problems had been preserved in the last hundred years. He breathed a laugh at the thought of Mark having to deal with it. He deserved it. 

 

He felt his breathing stop the moment he heard voices on the other side of the door. He recognized the voice of Willi-, no, Wilford, but he didn’t recognize the stuttering voice. 

 

“...am forced to follow your command, as I do not have admin permissions. I will not tell the others unless you want me to,” the one with the stuttering voice said. 

 

“Yes, yes, I know, I know. I just… I haven’t told this to anyone, ever. It’s hard to trust anyone when you haven’t done that for so long,” Wilford said. Damien felt a tinge of sadness upon hearing the lost tone of his old friend’s voice. 

 

“I’m going to talk to him now, I will try to explain the situation to everyone else at the meeting.” Damien heard footsteps coming towards his door. 

 

“Wait,” the other said, “Right now, it is 1:30 AM. Are you sure you want to wake him up?” 

 

A moment of silence. “You’re right, you’re right. I should wait until tomorrow.” The footsteps got away from his door. “I’m going to bed. Good night, Google.”

 

“Good night,” the other said, voice getting lower at ‘night’, as if he had shut down. 

 

“Aw, crap,” he heard Wilford whisper. 

 

At this moment Damien decided that he was going to talk to Wilford. He got up from the bed, quickly grabbing his (Mark’s) shirt and pants that he had hung over the chair and put them on. 

 

He silently walked over to the door and opened it. He met Wilford’s shocked stare, which he answered with a shy smile. “Hello.” 

 

William-, no, Wilford shook his head and finally answered, “Damien. I must have woken you up! I am very sorry, you can go back to sleep if you want to!” For some reason Damien got flashbacks of cutting down a tree in the middle of the woods. He suppressed a shiver. 

 

“Uh, no need to worry. I couldn’t sleep anyway.” Wilford gave him a look of understanding. 

 

They stared at each other in silence, neither knowing what to say. Damien thought about how much his old friend’s appearance had changed since the last time he had seen him. He was wearing the same outfit, but his suspenders had faded from red to pink, his yellow-ish dress shirt to white. Somehow his mustache had turned pink, which shouldn’t be normal, but then again, what was ‘normal’ anymore? 

 

The silence between them was broken by mechanical snoring sounds next to Wilford. Damien looked, and saw a look-alike of Mark in a blue shirt with a huge G on it. His head was facing downwards, almost as if he was asleep. Damien turned back to Wilford with a confused expression. 

 

Wilford looked like he was trying to keep in laughter, to which Damien raised an eyebrow. “Alright, alright,” Wilford said, “this is Google, he’s an android.” That only confused Damien even more, causing Wilford to giggle. 

 

Wilford’s laugh was… different from how he remembered it, but it was certainly contagious. Damien couldn’t help but smile, slowly letting Wilford’s laughter die down and forgetting the so called ‘android’. After a few moments they were back in the same sort of silence they were in before. 

 

Damien didn’t quite know what to say, and from the looks of it, Wilford also didn’t. Once again the silence was interrupted, but this time by the sound of Damien’s stomach. 

 

“Oh, I have completely forgotten to offer something to eat! You must be hungry, of course! Come with me, I will prepare something to eat for you!” Wilford grabbed Damien’s arm, and suddenly they were in a kitchen. 

 

Damien took a few steps back in shock, looking around him. There were a lot of weird machines that he didn’t recognize, and weirdly enough, it put him even more on edge than the fact that they just teleported. 

 

Wilford luckily recognized the panic in his friend’s eyes, and carefully grabbed his hands. The gesture was oddly romantic, and Damien really badly wanted to avert his eyes from the other’s. “What’s the matter?” Wilford asked. 

 

Damien took a slow breath to calm down. “There are… I don’t know what all of these things around me are supposed to be,” was all that he could muster. Wilford nodded and dragged him, still by his hands, to the next room, which was a room with a big round table. Damien assumed that this was the dining room. 

 

“I can tell you what those are later, if you want to?” Damien nodded, still aware that they were holding hands. Why didn’t he just let go?

 

“Great! Now, what do you want to eat? I could bake an egg, or I could warm up leftover pizza from yesterday…” Wilford looked at him, waiting for an answer. 

 

“Scrambled eggs would be nice,” Damien said, not knowing what ‘pizza’ was supposed to mean. 

 

“Scrambled eggs, coming up!” At that, Wilford let Damien’s hands go, leaving him alone in the dining room. 

 

He looked around, and grabbed the chair that was the closest to him. He sat down and took a breath. Things seemed so familiar… and yet, they were completely new. 

 

Wilford acted very much like he used to, even if there were significant changes in his appearance. The way he moved was different, but the smile towards him was the same. The way he talked had completely changed, but he could vaguely recognize his old voice in it. 

 

The fact that Wilford was preparing a meal for him after 12 AM was also something that wasn’t completely new to him. Back when they were teens and William still lived in the Manor, Damien would sleep over, usually not succeeding at the sleeping part. William would know when Damien couldn’t sleep and stayed awake with him. When they felt hungry, they would prepare a meal together. Next morning Mark would come down to see that the kitchen was a mess, and they would have had to explain that they had had what they called ‘dark lunch’. 

 

He smiled at the memory. It felt like almost no time had passed since then. 

 

His thoughts were pulled back into the present when he heard someone coming down the stairs, who was continuously mumbling. Damien stood up and was going to walk to the kitchen, but he kept standing there, frozen. Why couldn’t he move? He tried to call Wilford, but his mouth was kept shut. What the hell was going on? 

 

He could only stand and watch as a blindfolded man in a trenchcoat walked in with a manic smile on his face. The man was still talking to himself, but now Damien could make out what he was saying. 

 

“... as Damien stands frozen in fear he sees the Host coming in. He wants to call Wilford, but fails, as the Host has temporarily taken his ability to speak from him.” 

 

At that the man who called himself the Host stopped talking, and Damien could finally move again. He didn’t run away though, he just kept staring at the strange man, not knowing what to do. In the end, he decided to try if his voice was working again.

 

“Are… you a friend of Wilford’s?” was all he could think of. 

 

The Host tilted his head sideways, too slow to be normal, and said, “The Host does not see Wilford as a friend of his, more as a colleague.” He tilted his head back to normal. Damien suppressed a shiver. He didn’t know if he was in danger. 

 

As he slowly started backing away from the creepy man, the latter started talking again, “Damien walks backwards, not noticing that his friend Wilford is behind him, and Wilford has to throw the plate he is holding away in order to keep Damien and himself from falling.” And as the Host said, Damien bumped into someone behind him, who let out a shout, caught him, and a fraction of a second later he heard the clattering of a plate. 

 

“Host, don’t scare him like that! You know that you should not do the thing you do when there is a newcomer!” Wilford said, still holding a very disoriented Damien. The latter began struggling, and Wilford picked him up and put him back on his feet. Damien stumbled away from Wilford, blinking a few times. 

 

Wilford grabbed his arm again, and instantly they were in yet another room. 


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Damien still doesn't know what's going on.

“What the hell was that?!” said Damien bewilderedly.

 

Wilford walked to the writing desk in the corner - that had another weird machine on it and it definitely didn’t help Damien in his panicky state - and set down the plate that he had apparently picked back up. He turned back to Damien, “That was the Host, one of the main Egos that works with me against- or used to work with me against Mark.”

 

“Yes, but why did he have such control over me? That was weird as hell!” Damien shouted out. His heart was still pounding and he could now feel his breathing starting to get faster.

 

Wilford recognized the panic and walked over to his friend to give him a hug. “Shh, shh, it’s fine, Damien, I won’t let it happen again, I’ll make sure of it.”

 

Damien first tensed when he was suddenly being hugged, but then he let himself be soothed by Wilford’s voice. Suddenly he felt a lot calmer. He took a deep breath. “...Alright then, I trust you.” Damien enjoyed Wilford’s warmth for another second before trying to pull away from the hug.

 

Wilford let him go. He gestured at the plate with the food he made for Damien, asking him if he still wanted it. Damien shook his head. He wasn’t feeling that hungry anymore.

 

He finally noticed the room around him. All of the walls were the same shade of pink as Wilford’s mustache. Wilford must have really grown fond of the color in the last years. He turned around, and saw his own face in the mirror with- oh no. Oh, God no.

 

“ ** _What did he do to my hair?!_ ** ” How hadn’t he noticed it before?! It was way longer than he liked it, it was messy, it was nothing like how he used to have his hair _at all_! He tried to push it back, but it didn’t work.

 

“Oh, yeah, it’s a bit different from how it used to be, but don’t worry, you look fine,” Wilford said way too indifferent for Damien’s taste.

 

“Fine?! You think _this_ ,” he grabbed one of his curly locks, “ **_this_ ** , is fine?!” He stared at Wilford, who was starting to get an annoying smile on his face. He got an odd feeling of déjà vu, and he glared at William. This only caused _Wilford_ , not William, to grin even wider. He let out an exasperated sigh and turned back to the mirror, only to see his own face scrunch up with disgust. He decided to walk away from the mirror.

 

“Hey, hey, wait a second! You don’t have to be embarrassed, it really looks fine! But if you want to we can make an appointment with the barber this morning.” Wilford offered.

 

Damien took a breath to calm down, straightened his posture, turned back to him and said, “I would like that.” While he said that, his stomach growled again. He looked at the plate, only to see that Wilford was already standing right next to him with it in his hand. He took a step back, “How…”

 

“Here!” Wilford shoved the plate in his hands, and Damien decided he wouldn’t question it anymore. Wilford grabbed a chair from the corner and set it at the desk. He gestured Damien to sit down at the chair that already stood there. Suspiciously eyeing the machine, he sat down.

 

Then he smelled the eggs, and he immediately forgot his fear for the machine. And everything else around him. He didn’t even think about what he was doing, only the taste of eggs and toast seemed to matter.

 

The next thing he knew was that Wilford was looking at him as if he was trying very hard not to laugh. “Whaf?” Damien asked, noticing that his voice sounded strange. Then he felt something fall out of his mouth. Wilford burst out laughing. Damien looked what fell out of his mouth. There was a yellow blob on his plate. Oh. It was the egg. Oh god. Where were his manners?!

 

He felt his face heat up. He desperately wiped basically half of the food that had been on his plate from his face, then he hid his face in his hands. “I apologize, I must have forgotten my manners.”

 

“Yes you have! God, Dames, what happened to you in all these years?” Wilford laughed.

 

“Oh, shut up!” Damien softly slapped Wilford on his arm and started to laugh too, “It’s been a hundred years, give me a break!”

 

There was a loud knock on the door. Both Wilford and Damien went quiet.

 

“What’s going on here! Wilford, you promised you wouldn’t bring your ‘dates’ here anymore!” an annoyed voice said.

 

Wilford’s shoulders relaxed. “Oh, I remember, doc, I haven’t brought a date here!”

 

Doc? Like a doctor? How many people lived here?

 

“Then who are you talking to?” The voice got a little softer, though the annoyance was still there.

 

“Just an old friend of mine!” Wilford said.

 

“You took ‘an old friend of yours’ to your room at 2 AM?”

 

“Yeah!”

 

The voice went quiet for a few seconds. “...Sure. I’ll check up on you tomorrow to see if your mental health isn’t getting worse. Now please be quiet, everyone is trying to sleep.” Damien heard the footsteps from ‘doc’ getting fainter, and then he heard a door opening and closing.

 

He finally let out the breath that he had been holding. He turned to Wilford, who didn’t seem to be bothered by that conversation. “Who… was that?” he whispered.

 

“Just Dr. Iplier,” Wilford answered. Iplier? What kind of name was that?

 

_I don’t know, that’s how he introduced himself when he came here._

 

_Yes, I get that. It’s just a strange name._

 

_Well, that’s a bit rude, considering your last name is-_

 

“Wait, what the hell!” Damien shouted out, and immediately after that he put a hand on his mouth to shut himself up. Did Wilford just talk to him in his head? He looked at him, and Wilford looked back at him, wide-eyed.

 

_I suppose I did…?_

 

What. The. Fuck. “...Am I going insane?” Damien felt his heart starting to pound again and he felt everything going cold. What was happening? He didn’t know. He didn’t even know if any of this was real. Oh God. Oh God, this is terrible. Was this all just a dream? It had to be, right? Yes, it had to be. How else could he have been almost a hundred years into the future, and how else could his old friend still have been alive? But... if this isn’t real, then why would everything that happened the days after the poker night have been real? That had to be a nightmare, then. He was going to wake up in the bed in the Manor, Mark wouldn’t have died, he would go back to work, everything would be _fine_. It had to be.

 

He didn’t even notice that everything around him had gone grey until Wilford shook him by his shoulders. “Hey, hey! Damien! Dames! C’mon, this is as real as can be, you’re not insane.”

 

Everything around him got color again, and he noticed that his breathing had sped up. He blinked up to his friend. “What… What just happened?”

 

Wilford looked down at him with a soft smile, a mix of worry and, weirdly enough, amusement in his eyes. “You just zoned out, I think. Weird, I thought only Abe did that!”

 

He took another moment to catch his breath. “Wait… Abe is still alive?”

 

“Of course he is! I just saw him the other day! I must say he has changed a lot since the poker night, but he’s still mostly the same. Now that we’re already talking about him, let’s go visit him!” Wilford already moved to grab Damien, probably to take him to Abe.

 

“Wait, no!” Wilford stopped and rose an eyebrow. “I, uh, I’m really tired all of a sudden. Perhaps we can go tomorrow?”

 

Wilford blinked once at him. “Oh, of course! Sorry, I get that you must be exhausted. Let’s get you back to bed!” Wilford grabbed him once again, and they were back in Dark’s room.

 

“Well, good night! I’ll let you sleep for however long you’d like!” And Wilford was gone.

 

Damien took a deep breath. That was weird.

 

He looked at the bed. Perhaps he’d wake up tomorrow and all of this would just have been a bad dream. Maybe not. It could be that reality is as weird as it seems right now. He decided that it wouldn’t really matter in the end.

 

He got back into bed, not even bothering to take his clothes off. A few seconds after closing his eyes, he fell asleep.

 

The next morning he would wake up with a familiar song in his head, sung by a familiar voice.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It took me a while, but here's the next chapter! I'm a bit busy with school, so I don't really have a lot of time and energy for writing, but when I do have that I put it into this story.
> 
> I hope you enjoy reading this so far! 
> 
> (Criticism is always welcome, by the way.)


End file.
